


sausage party

by mothman182



Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Relationship Discussions, Slurs, Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-19 21:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15519060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothman182/pseuds/mothman182
Summary: Wayne and Daryl are in the beginings of their relationship and have to take a drive up for a family favor. Things are a bit rocky.-not how the title sounds (yet)





	sausage party

**Author's Note:**

> i don't publish a fic in 2 years and come back with letterkenny of all things. idk why but here we are.
> 
> as a small town pnw gay i hope i captured the ontario accent well enough!

It was late one afternoon on the way home from Minesing after bringing up the raw hamburger and sausage from home to one of Wayne and Katy’s distant aunt and uncle. 

They weren’t close with them, but family tradition is family tradition. Every fall after they had a few cows slaughtered, Wayne and Katy’s parents used to gather the two in the shed to help package the hamburger, or wait til they got a good amount of collagen from the cow’s guts to make sausage. Family and friends started asking to buy some and making extra few bucks was never something their Mum and Dad ever said no to. So now, more than a decade later, they keep up the tradition. 

It was a bit slow at first with only Katy, Wayne, and Darry, but as the years went on it began to be a bit of a spectacle. Soon enough Squirrely Dan was able to offer his help, and later on Tanis and her boys, McMurray and Mrs. McMurray, Bonnie, Riley and Jonesy, and a few of the other Letterkenny usuals would occasionally offer their help. Except the skids. For obvious reasons. Usually if you showed up to help Wayne and Katy agreed on shearing a few bucks off yer total cost, but other than that they just appreciated the extra hands.

They had family further north, which usually meant shipping it through the mail. But Patrick and Helen had complained last year about the mail taking too long to get there. They gave Wayne and earful about that it smelled rotten but ain’t no way Wayne put rotten meat out for no one and that’s for fucking certain. Wayne took a lot of pride in all this, learning damn near since he could walk how to make sausage just right. How long each link should be, what spices and seasonings to use, how to smoke it, and how to package it. Feels like he could do it in his sleep. So someone suggesting there was something wrong with it? Wayne took it personal.

It was only 4 hours. And Patrick threw in a little extra for petrol so Wayne wasn’t gonna complain.

Wayne didn’t expect Katy to come cause she had some important hockey game she wanted to see. Her boys were playing for once, which Wayne supposes is something new, considering she never used to go in the first place. So it was just him and Daryl. Not like delivering was all too hard, cause it really wasn’t. It’s just that there was a lot of wraps his aunt and uncle asked for, and more hands make less work. Katy was never fond of ending a day stinking like raw meat anyways, and taking a 4 hour round trip wasn’t worth it for her. It wasn't so bad for Wayne or Darry; what the fuck else were they supposed to do? Anyhow, cash is cash and family is family. 

So Wayne and Dar take off early in the morning and get there just a bit before eight. 

Pat and Helen had asked for what ended up being four milk crates full: one of breakfast sausage, one of summer sausage and two of ground hamburger. 

They met Helen and Patrick under the cover of their patio roof to get out of the rain. Just a drizzle, not yet pouring. It was probably 7 or 8 degrees, and Daryl tried not to shiver. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat. Wayne just had a turtleneck and a flannel, not minding a bit of rain. 

It was no secret that Patrick and Helen weren't Daryl’s biggest fans, so he figured it'd be best to keep his mouth shut unless absolutely necessary. Some people just couldn't separate kids from their parents, even if Daryl’s mum was a sweet gal, despite her circumstances.

Wayne walked towards the couple casually and held out his hand for the two to shake. Daryl followed.

“Patrick, Helen, how’re ya now?”

Patrick took Wayne's hand, but didn't smile. Helen squeezed his hand gingerly. Daryl swallowed, already uncomfortable.

They both replied, “Good, ‘n you?”

After his hands were back in his pockets, Wayne replied, “Oh not s’bad.” 

He turned to Darry and then looked back at the couple. “This is Daryl, I'm sure you remember.”

The two nodded and exchanged similar greetings. Daryl made sure to include “sir” and “ma’am” as often as he could. They both gave him the stink eye the whole time, and Daryl could feel their judgmental and cautious eyes on him even when he looked away.

“Got the meat?”

“Sure do. We'll go on ‘n get it fer ya.”

It didn't take too long to unload, but they walked the crates down to the freezer and unpacked it there for the older couple as well. The polite thing to do.

While Patrick was counting out the cash for Wayne, he asked, “So Wayne, how’re the gals in Letterkenny treatin’ you these days?”

“Too bad about you ‘n Angie there,” Helen added.

A lightning bolt of anxiety shook Daryl all through his chest and fingers. What was Wayne gonna say? If he told the truth, how would they react? He bit his tongue. Fuck, he needed a dart.

Now Wayne wasn't one to lie, on account of that not being respectable, but Daryl wouldn't fault him in this situation. He was still surprised at what came out of Wayne's mouth.

“No longer relevant.” Darry could see Wayne's shoulders deflate as he sighed. That was a sure sign of something he was holding onto about to come out. Literally.

Daryl held his breath.

“‘m actually with Daryl now.”

God, he was gonna need a whole fuckin’ pack.

Patrick cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the money, Helen’s eyes were wide as saucers.

“Well ain't that a fuckin’ shame,” Patrick mumbled.

A swirl of hot emotions churned in Daryl’s stomach. Anger, embarrassment, shame, then more blind anger. 

“The fuck did you just say?” Daryl could hear the venom in Wayne's voice.

“Really is a shame,” Helen huffed, crossing her arms. “Thought you were more respectable than that.”

“Never thought you'd choose such a lifestyle. Don't know who would.” The money was thrust into Wayne's hand and Patrick shook his head.

That was it. Darry took a few steps forward, getting both of their attention. They all looked up in surprise.

“Some fuckin’ Christians you are,” He barked, his hands at his sides and balled into fists. “Wayne's the most respectable person out of everyone here, it's a fuckin’ shame youse two have the balls to shittalk him at all, let alone to his face.” 

It felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest and heat bubbled up in his throat. He spat onto the ground and continued before he could be interrupted.

“Youse should be fuckin’ ashamed of yerself, judgemental fuckin’ pricks,” Daryl took a dart out of his coat pocket and lit it, shielding the flame from the rain.

“Can't fuckin believe this bullshit. I'm done here. Enjoy the fuckin’ sausage,” Before Daryl could hold his tongue he blew out some smoke and smirked, “I know I do.”

The disgusted scoff he heard from Helen as he turned around was more than worth it.

He didn't hear the last interaction between them and Wayne over the rain and his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

By the time Daryl got back to the truck he had already finished his first cigarette and stomped it out with his boot. The door of the cab was slick with rain and his hands were clammy from nerves, so it took him a second to work the latch open and sit down inside. He watched Wayne walk to his side of the truck, tucking the cash into his breast pocket. Even if his face was relatively blank, the end of his cigarette was bright red as he huffed in breaths.

Wayne got inside and took another long drag before tossing the dart outside the open window and exhaling.

“ _I'm fuckin’ irritated_.”

“That makes two of us, Big Shoots,” Daryl mumbled around his second cigarette. He leaned his elbow near the window and rested his cheek on his hand. “Wanna go home.”

The engine fired up and Wayne put the truck into gear. “Can do.”

\- 

The weather was cold and wet, still raining since the morning. All the two of them had was the patter of rain, the stink of seasoned sausage, and each other.

Now it's an unspoken rule that if you're in a truck with alone another fella you sit on the opposite side and Wayne was a hard enforcer of that rule. Don't mean Darry doesn't stretch the boundaries as much as he can though. Stretched his legs wide and made himself comfortable, figuring Wayne wouldn't be too strict considering the stressful morning they had.

After an eternity of silence, Wayne cleared his throat, eyes still on the road.

“‘preciate what you said back there, Dar.”

Daryl looked at Wayne through sleepy eyes and gave him a soft smirk.

“Can't have no one bad mouthin’ my sweetie now, can I?” He nudged one of his feet against Wayne's leg playfully.

No reaction; no nothin’.

“Come on now, Wayne. Don't be such a party pooper.” The urge to touch Wayne proved to be too strong and before Daryl knew it he had leaned over just enough to where he could run his hand over Wayne's thigh.

Wayne visibly stiffened, but not in a good way.

The window on Wayne's side rolled down so he could blow the smoke out of his mouth and flick the ash into the rain. Rain speckled Wayne's shirt and face for a moment before the window closed.

Wayne took the cigarette out of his mouth and tucked it between his fingers at the steering wheel. “Maybe take about twenty to twenty-five percent off there, Dar.”

“Well yer not sayin’ _stop_.”

More silence. Daryl looked forward at the road and rubbed his thumb against Wayne's thigh just a bit.

“Ain't nothin’ wrong with a little laneway lap lubrication.”

“I know there's nothin’ wrong with a little friendly freeway prick friction I know that. ‘m drivin’, ya fuckin’ tit. It's inappropriate.”

“Ain't nothin’ wrong with a little windshield wank between co-workers.”

“I _know_ there's nothin’ wrong with a little driver side dick debauchery, _I know that_. But fuckin’ listen to me Darry it's inappropriate and I'm gonna tell ya.”

Wayne grabbed Darry’s hand, took it off his thigh and pinned it to the seat with his hand over Daryl’s. This jerked Daryl towards Wayne a bit, enough to where he could see how furrowed his brow was.

“Gettin’ a bit frisky from bouncin’ around in a truck all day is understandable, I can't fault you for that. We've all popped a few uncomfortable lap rockets in our day but there's such thing as too much horn talk and a fella oughta be fuckin’ aware of it.”

Daryl squinted, “But I'm among friends- my sweetie, even. Yer sayin’ horn talk is inappropriate between sweeties? Even if the sweeties in question are both sportin’ a fully loaded friendly weapon?”

“Co-rect.”

Daryl pulled his hand back and crossed his arms. “Well I just don't think that's right… no.”

“Look, yous is more than welcome to unload my friendly weapon once we are in the comfort of our own home, I ain't sayin’ no to that. But givin’ me fuckin’ road head is off the table. You know my folks died in a car accident so forgive me if I'm not too keen on distracted driving.”

“You have road beers though. When we're drivin’ out to shoot coyotes or scoutin’ fer deer.”

“That's different, Darry, now that's different. Strictly _off_ -road beers. Dirt road beers, gravel road beers, field beers, after chorin’ beers. Never catch me pullin’ from a Puppers on the freeway, have ya, Dar?”

“Got me there, Wayne.”

“Thank you. Now please stop with all this horn talk, fer fuck’s sake.” The grumpy stare on Wayne's face continued looking forward at the road before returning back to its neutral state: virtually emotionless.

Daryl replied, “10-4 good buddy.”

“Over n’ out.”

The truck was quiet for a little while longer. Fall was well underway, so the leaves on the trees were a plethora of different warm tones. They shook from the breeze and rain. Daryl looked out the window with his face resting on his fist, propped up against the window. 

“How d’you feel about what they said back there?”

The muscle in Wayne's jaw locked and his hand gripped the wheel. 

“What do I say about talkin’ too much, Dar?”

“Less you say now the less you have to apologize for later. I'm just sayin’-” 

“Darry-”

“-I understand but ya don't gotta think about it too hard. Patrick’s an old fashioned son of a bitch and shit he says don't matter. Helen too. I know you can get preoccupied with peoples’ opinions of you but ain't nothin’ wrong with what we got or what we're doin’. Ain't none of their business anyhow.”

The purr of the engine and the sound of rain filled the air, but Daryl knew to give Wayne time to think over his response. Wayne wasn't one to speak unnecessarily.

The window rolled down. Wayne took one last drag from his dart before it throwing it outside, letting the wind take it. Rain pattered inside and the window rolled back up. It was quiet again for a short while.

“I suppose it ain't so much what they say, more like how they act. Mum and Dad never had no problem with queers, or whoever the fuck, so it just chaps my ass that my own flesh and blood would feel the need t’be so fuckin’ juvenile.” 

Wayne let out a deep sigh and blinked before he held out his free hand, never taking his eyes off the road.

Daryl reciprocated, feeling oddly sheepish. Wayne laced their fingers together. It almost looked like Wayne's shoulders lost a bit of tension once they touched, but Daryl wouldn't mention it.

“I know I haven't been the easiest person in the world to deal with throughout this whole process, and I do apologize for that,” Wayne said, his voice low and serious.

There was squeeze to Daryl’s hand. He kept his mouth shut and let Wayne finish.

“I wanna do right by you, Darry. I'm proud ‘n quite content to be yer sweetie but I just…” One side of his mouth quirked up a bit in thought before continuing.

“S’pose I just need some time, is all. To adjust ‘n such. My super soft feelins fer you and how we treat each other is still new to me. Like…” he trailed off and blinked four or five times.

“Like do I hold the door open fer ya now? Should I start takin’ ya out on dates? Gettin’ ya flowers ‘n shit?”

Daryl was slightly taken aback and he snorted, “Do you have to treat me like a gal now is what yer sayin’.”

A trademark Wayne scowl came across his face. “That's not what I said.”

“That's how you treated all yer past sweeties Wayne, but they was all gals.”

“...Kay,” Wayne hummed, waiting for Darry to elaborate.

“I don't think you need to change anything Wayne. We're still pals, nothin's gonna change that. And to be honest, you treatin’ me like a gal ain't really the point of bein’ in a homosexual relationship, y’know?”

Wayne deflated a bit and tilted his head to the side slightly. “I suppose…”

“People make mistakes, Wayne. Ain't nothin’ wrong with it,” Daryl smiled and rubbed his thumb along the back of Wayne's calloused hand. “Just glad we can talk about it.”

“Agreed.” 

Even though he couldn't see it, Daryl could hear the gentle grin in Wayne's voice. It was his favorite sound.

He squeezed Wayne's hand while a scheme brewed in his head. “How long ‘til we get home?”

“Mmm… half an hour or so.”

“Got chorin’ to do?”

“No. Had Katy feed the dogs ‘n you got the cows all settled ‘fore we left. Finished changin’ the oil in the tractor yesterday 'n gettin' all the hay into the barn too, so… Not much else I don't think.”

Daryl bit his tongue and smirked, “What do you say we have our own sausage party back at the house?”

Wayne's mouth turned up a bit and his voice was low and mischievous.

“ _That,_ is a Texas-sized 10-4.”


End file.
